


Evergreen Sunshine Camp

by dreammaker_heartbreaker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreammaker_heartbreaker/pseuds/dreammaker_heartbreaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an AU, Hermione is spending the summer in a family camp with her parents who are living their lives in denial of their own problems. There is nothing that could make this situation any worse, but maybe there is someone who can make it better... Taken some inspiration from Dirty Dancing and had some fun combining the two...stay tuned for more and as always...R and R</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evergreen Sunshine Camp

“There they are! Hi there campers! Are you ready for some fun?”

Hermione begrudgingly pulled herself out of the back seat of her parent’s minivan and prepared for the onslaught of happiness. The camp director was stood in front of the Granger family with his arms outstretched ready to welcome them into a warm embrace. She looked around at her surroundings and there was green as far as the eye could see. 

“Don’t look so sad camper, you’ll be part of the Evergreen Sunshine Family before you know it!” 

Hermione put on her cheesiest smile to encourage the poor soul and pulled her back pack from the trunk of the car. Her parents joined her and they too were wearing their best smiles, only theirs weren’t forced. 

“Isn’t it beautiful here sweetheart, just think of the fun you’ll be having here this summer. You’re last summer to truly be a child!” Her father had an arm around her shoulder and was motioning to the scene before them.

“Um, I think that summer was about five years ago when you spent the summer with...what was her name mum? Sophia? In Venice wasn’t it?”

“Hermione-“

“Oh I’m sorry. Forgot we weren’t supposed to mention that...” she rolled her eyes and made to grab her suitcase but before she could reach it, someone was already carrying it away. “Hey, I can carry my own luggage-“

“It’s my job.” Was the dry answer she was met with, she watched him walk away into her chalet quite disparaged that she was being treated like a child. 

“Orientation is between 3 and 5 in the club house lounge, please come over, mingle, there will be wine for the grownups and an array snacks and drinks for the little ones”, the overly joyful camp director said looking toward Hermione.

“Is it an open bar?”

“Oh...um...well yes, the parents usually get quite giggly during the orient-“

“I’m in.” Hermione had heard enough and walked into the chalet to find her room but instantly walked into that luggage carrier and her afternoon got that much worse.   
She refused to unpack her bags still in denial that the next 8 weeks of her life would be spent in this family camp hell hole. She lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling hypnotised by the quietness of her new surroundings. 

********************************  
She heard her parents pottering around in the chalet, unpacking and making themselves at home. “What a joke” she thought, “is it 3 o’clock yet?”  
********************************

After refusing to dress in what her mum deemed to be “appropriate orientation attire” and reapplying her already heavy eyeliner, the Grangers made their way up to the club house. Her parents led the way and she sullenly followed refusing to show any enthusiasm for any part of this process.

When they walked in, they were ushered towards a table where they handed “Hi my name is....” stickers. Absolutely mortified, Hermione ditched her parents and made a bee line for the bar. 

“White wine please...large.” 

“You have ID?”

It was the luggage guy from the chalet. She sighed and pulled her licence from her bag.

“Happy?”

“We don’t usually have any one at the bar between the ages of 6 and 65...I gotta check.”

“Do I look six?”

“Here you go, madam.” He put the glass in front of her.

“Madam? Oh god, I’m not 65 either.” He smiled politely and served the next people.

She sat there for the next 5 drinks, or was it 6 and her night didn’t exactly improve, nor did it worsen. “Maybe this won’t be so bad” she thought as she signalled for another drink but the bartender suggested that maybe she had had enough for tonight and that she should think about getting some food. 

Mortally offended she attempted to storm off, but due to the amount of wine in her system she looked more like Bambi walking on ice which had much less of an impact than she was hoping. 

She left the building and was walking around the outside, through the window she glanced into the dining room and saw her parents sitting together in the middle, they held hands across the table and were staring into each other’s eyes. 

“What a joke” she said to herself and was surprised when she was met with a reply.

“What’s a joke?”   
She turned and saw a guy sitting nearby apparently tuning a guitar; he was dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat with the collar open showing the tiniest hint of a tattoo near his collar bone. 

“Uh oh” she thought, “kryptonite!”

“What’s a joke?” he repeated and she was pulled from her stupor.

“Huh?”

“Are you ok?” he put his guitar in the case that was lying next to him on the bench and approached her. 

“Oh god, sober up Hermione” she thought.

“I’m fine” she said much more confidently than she felt.

“You sure? You’re swaying- woah! Ok,” he took her arm and steadied her. “Come, sit here. Found the open bar did you?”

“No...no, I’m fine honestly.” But the fresh air had hit her like a truck, “deep breaths” she thought, “you cannot throw up in front of this guy. He’s too beautiful.”

“You don’t look it, ok. Look at me.” He crouched on the floor in front of her and took her hands in his, “Breathe. Deep breaths, in the nose and out through the mouth.” They did it together and in sync. After a minute or so, he loosened the hold on her hands and began to stand up at full height. She followed him as he rose and suddenly she was short of breath. 

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.” 

He turned towards where his guitar lay and started to close the case when he heard that sound that makes everyone nauseous. Hermione was throwing up over the side of the bench.


End file.
